Don't
by painted-maypole
Summary: Sometimes the floodgates open at the wrong time. AR


It took Admiral Adama a few minutes after walking through the hatch and closing it behind him to notice the woman, lying asleep on his sofa. It took him even longer to carry on moving further into his living quarters after he became aware of her and even when he did his movements were not quite as smooth as normal. As if unsure whether to approach her or to leave her to rest for a while?

As he approached the sofa he took the time to glance around him, noticing the shoes chucked off loosely by the side of the sofa and the jacket thrown across one of the chairs by his table. The same table where a small stack of paperwork had been placed, on top of which rested her glasses. He paused to considered the idea that the paperwork were reports she had planned to go through with him tonight. Of course if that were the case then it would probably be best to wake her immediately.

He carefully sat on the on the edge of the sofa by her waist studying her as she slept. Taking note of how pale she looked and deciding it would do no harm to let her rest for a little longer. Content in his decision he instinctively leant forward to give her a kiss on the forehead before standing but the movement made her stir and as his lips were about to make contact with her forehead she moved. He froze as he realised his lips had landed on her hers instead of the more innocent destination.

Time stretched before suddenly spinning into fast forward. His lips were pressing against hers without any real thought. He shifted and placed one hand on the sofa by her head so he could lean further into the kiss just as she grabbed hold of his uniform to pull him down into her. Meanwhile his other hand which had been resting on her waist began to move. It slid down almost desperately in search of skin. Toying with the hem of her skirt when it did. Before eventually sliding up and under, where it made itself familiar with the inside of her thigh.

"Don't" she whispered. Her voice still heavy with sleep. "Please don't". But even as she spoke those words she was pulling him tighter into herself and arching into his touch. Infact she seemed to have very little intention of making sure her commands were followed and pretty soon he found himself without his uniform jacket and with an extremely wide awake Laura Roslin straddling his lap. Her hands ran through his hair and then over his shoulders hungrily. His mouth fought her shirt for access to her collar bone while his hands slid. Both hands then glued themselves firmly to her thighs. More to hold her in place then anything else.

It wasn't till he raised his head with the intention of returning his lips to hers that he noticed the tears trailing down her checks. The Admiral froze for a mere second before choking out her name on a whisper. He sounded more shocked then anything. His hands speedily slipped out from under her skirt to cup her face. Fingers busily trying to intercept some of the tears as her hands lowered to rest on his chest.

"I'm Sorry. I'm so sorry." Stumbled out The President as her tears turned into sobs. Bill didn't stop to ask, or even consider what she was sorry about. He swiftly wrapped one arm around her waist while the other proceeded to stroke her back gently through her shirt. She placed her head on the shoulder he so casually offered. Her lips tickerling his skin as she repeated that it wasn't fair into his neck between body wracking sobs. She cried for all the people that had died, all the people that maybe somehow she could have saved, for all the decisions she had made that had altered someone's life for the worst and for all the pain. Everyone's pain. She cried in a way she hadn't allowed herself to cry since the attacks. Nothing but pure emotion riding her.

Eventually the tears stopped and his hand on her back stilled. Still they stayed in the same position for a while, allowing Laura's breathing to return to normal and the tears to dry. As she sat up she was able to manage a small smile conveying her gratitude. He returned the smile tiding her hair as he did but then allowed a slight frown to take its place as he wiped almost angrily at the red trails that bore evidence to the crying that had recently occurred.

She gently removed his hands, allowing one last twitch of her lips before she slid from his lap. As soon as her feet hit the floor her presidential mask returned and she quickly straightened her attire whilst moving to slip her shoes on. Adama made no comment as he slid his uniform jacket back on and watched as The President walked over to the table were her reports lay. He stood and followed her across the room as she sat in the chair her jacket had previously been lying across, put her glasses on and picked up the first report. He moved around the table and sat on a chair opposite. Their eyes caught, and hers seemed almost to be asking a question. He gave a slight inclination of his head. Her legs crossed and they both proceeded to discuss business as if the previous events had never even occurred.


End file.
